


Suspend

by Esselle



Series: Modern Art [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Artists, Coming Untouched, Exhibitionism, Japanese Rope Bondage, Kinktober 2016, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Shibari
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esselle/pseuds/Esselle
Summary: 'Kageyama walks slowly around Hinata to observe the patterns of rope on his body."The ropes are an extension of myself," Kageyama says. "My hands, my touch, even my voice."Hinata hopes Kageyama doesn't see him shiver. "Okay." '--Kageyama's hands and Hinata's body go together like paint on canvas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _Kinbaku -_  "tight binding";  _shibari_ - "decoratively tie". [Kinbaku](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Japanese_bondage) is a Japanese style of bondage which involves tying up the bottom using simple yet visually intricate patterns. Shibari has a strong presence in some modern art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Kinktober challenge, day 23: Shibari.

It's late afternoon and Kageyama's art studio is lit exactly how he likes it. No need for any light but natural, though it's just starting to soften and turn gold.

In his hands, he holds a long length of scarlet rope, twisting it, ensuring its durability, tension, making sure it isn't too rough on his skin. It feels right.

There's a knock on the door to the studio, and he goes to answer it, feet bare on the wooden floor. But when he pulls it open, he's surprised.

Standing there instead of his usual model is someone he doesn't recognize, a short boy with bright red hair and a slim build. The boy gives him a nervous wave and smile.

"Hi!" he says, sounding slightly breathless. "Are you Kageyama Tobio?"

"I am," he says, eyebrow raised. "Who are you?"

"Um," the boy says, "Hinata Shouyou! Watanabe-san wasn't able to make it, he wanted me to tell you he's very, very sorry. But he asked me if I'd mind filling in, if you're okay with it, so… here I am!"

Kageyama feels annoyed at this change in his plans. For one, Hinata is much smaller than most of the models he usually prefers, but that can't be helped. He may as well accept the challenge.

"Well, come in, then," he grunts, motioning for Hinata to follow him inside.

"Thanks!" Hinata said. "I was heading to my yoga class when I got the call, so I was worried I'd be late, but then—"

"Are you familiar with Kinbaku?" Kageyama asks, cutting him off. Hinata falters.

"Rope… tying?" Hinata asks hesitantly. "I've… seen it done before? But I've never done it myself."

"Not ideal," Kageyama grumbles.

"Ah, sorry," Hinata says. "I'm good at taking direction, though, so—"

"You can leave your clothes on that bench," Kageyama instructs.

Silence. Then: "I have to undress?" Hinata squeaks. "En-entirely?"

Kageyama sighs, turning to stare at him. It's much more effective to try this on a nude model than it is on a clothed one, especially one whose physique he isn't familiar with. But he obviously can't demand it of someone inexperienced whom he's never even met.

"Nevermind!" Hinata says, when he catches sight of Kageyama's face.

"It's fine—" Kageyama starts to say, but Hinata is already shrugging out of his shirt.

"No, it's okay!" Hinata says, balling the cloth into a wad. "I've done it before—I sometimes model for figure drawing classes!"

"So… why are you so nervous?" Kageyama asks blankly.

"This is different," Hinata insists.

"One person staring at you, instead of twenty?"

Hinata flushes, his chest blooming pink as it spreads upward to his cheeks, his forehead. He pauses, hands at the waistband of his pants, and bites his lip. "This is more intimate…"

For the first time since he walked in, Kageyama appraises him fully. Hinata's figure is lean but strong, compact but lithe and slender. Kageyama wonders if he dances, too—he looks like he might. He steps closer to Hinata, holds the rope up next to those blushing cheeks, the red against the pink. Hinata raises his eyes to stare at Kageyama, his bottom lip dragging through his teeth.

Kageyama reflexively raises his hand, and touches Hinata's lip with the pad of his thumb, pressing against the spot his teeth grazed. Hinata freezes like a deer in headlights.

"It's supposed to be," Kageyama says. "More intimate, I mean." He lowers his hand, and Hinata nods, silently. "Let's start."

*

Kageyama's studio is warm. He has Hinata stretch—while he's naked. But he seems to become more pleased, as he observes how limber Hinata can be.

Next, before he binds Hinata, he shows him a series of simple rope patterns, to get him used to the feel of the knots and teach him how to best hold his limbs in different positions.

While he does this, he talks. Hinata knows next to nothing about shibari, so Kageyama tells him. In more ancient times, it was used as a method of restraint, and sometimes even torture. But it evolved, eventually, into a contemporary art, sometimes for performance, and other times, personal pleasure.

"Shibari," Kageyama says, "is more about the journey than the destination." He stands behind Hinata, and though he barely touches Hinata's skin, his hands are warm, skillful, as they pull and position and secure Hinata's arms and wrists behind his back with the rope. Kageyama works fast and his movements are firm, but not rough. Still, Hinata finds himself drawn up close to his chest, can feel the heat of the artist against his bare back.

"So, I should just sit back and enjoy it?" Hinata says.

"That's up to you," Kageyama replies.

He pulls, and the ropes go _just_ this side of tight, and they constrict, over Hinata's chest where they've been criss-crossed, confining him. Then Kageyama steps away, and Hinata realizes he truly is bound, unable to move though Kageyama has physically released his hold. The ropes and knots press snug against his skin, and he breathes in, and out, feeling them caress him, move as he moves.

Kageyama walks slowly around Hinata to observe the patterns of rope on his body.

"The ropes are an extension of myself," Kageyama says. "My hands, my touch, even my voice."

Hinata hopes Kageyama doesn't see him shiver. "Okay."

"You can just listen—and feel," Kageyama continues. "Or you can talk to me. However you want to do that."

Hinata stares at him, a little bit in awe. Kageyama raises his gaze from Hinata's body to meet his eyes, and Hinata gulps.

"So, Hinata," Kageyama says. "Can I suspend you?"

Hinata blinks at him. "Huh?"

*

Kageyama has to wonder if Watanabe-san realizes what a favor he's done him. Hinata is inexperienced, definitely, but he is far from difficult to work with.

In almost record time, he has tied Hinata fully in intricate patterns he'd be hesitant to try on most other beginners, who normally never relax so thoroughly. But Hinata goes pliant under his hands, his body malleable, eyes at once soft and observant as Kageyama binds his new canvas entirely in kikkou shibari, the diamond patterns crossing over his thighs and stomach and chest. He turns him over to fasten his arms behind his back, and to the ropes there he binds Hinata's legs, ankles crossed—Hinata is so incredibly flexible that he does this with ease.

This way, when Kageyama suspends him, supports and lifts him carefully into the air, his back toward the floor and face upturned toward the ceiling, he makes a stunningly helpless picture.

Head tipped back, hair falling away from his face and forehead like a red cloud. Arms and legs pulled behind his back, as though he's being punished like the war criminals originally tormented by these same techniques. His knees and thighs are spread apart wide, splayed open, putting him on full exhibition. And all of him bathed in red, red lines of rope, running across his flesh.

Kageyama never takes photographs of his private work. He feels it cheapens the impermanence.

But his fingers are _itching_ for his camera right now.

"Hinata," he says. "Hinata, how do you feel?" Though the position may cause discomfort, he wants to make sure Hinata isn't in any pain.

Hinata opens his eyes slowly, and when he looks at Kageyama, they are lidded and dazed. The flush in his cheeks and over his skin has deepened, turned to rose. He licks his lips and swallows laboriously.

"I feel…" he mumbles, and his eyelids flutter. "Oh…"

"Are you okay?" Kageyama reaches forward to support his head, fingers tangling in the mess of his hair.

Hinata nods, and then closes his eyes again, murmuring a little moan. And Kageyama realizes—he's blissed out.

Kageyama asks him again, quieter. "How do you feel?"

"I'm—" Hinata blinks at him again. "Ah, I'm—I'm sorry, I—couldn't help it—"

Kageyama gently lets his head lower, watches Hinata's face as his arousal sweeps over it, lips parted, panting slightly. His cock is hard, leaking onto his stomach, and he's so exposed, so on display.

"That's okay," Kageyama tells him. "Hinata, it's fine."

Hinata whimpers.

"You know, if this was one of my gallery showings," Kageyama says, "you'd be surrounded by people. All of them, watching you. Staring at you. And they'd find me, to compliment me." He runs a finger over the precise lines of one of the ropes, the one that curves to the inside of Hinata's thigh, just shy of the groove in his hip, below his groin.

 _"Oh,_ " Hinata gasps. "Kageyama-san—"

"You would be the piece they couldn't take their eyes off of," Kageyama says, contemplative, speaking to himself as much as to Hinata. "I could tie you in so many ways." The thought is exciting, inspiring. He bends down, lips nearly on the perfectly hued skin of Hinata's stomach, words whispering in the barest space between them. "Maybe blindfold you…" 

Hinata shudders, full bodied.

Kageyama tells him, "Don't tense."

"I'm—" Hinata moans, so full to the brim he can't contain it. Pleasure drips from his lips, flows over in sound. "I'm going to come, Kageyama, can I—"

"I told you it's up to you," Kageyama reminds him. "I won't be upset—they always tell me how good I am with my hands."

Hinata's back bows in the restraints, like someone has pulled him taut to fire an arrow. He has been touched by nothing but the ropes, yet he sobs in relief as he comes, spilling wet all over his stomach. The mess only adds to the canvas, Kageyama thinks, the final brushstroke. Hinata is ruined, going slack in the ropes as he finishes, and Kageyama finally steps forward to support him fully.

"I'm going to take you down," he tells him, and Hinata can only nod, senseless.

Carefully, Kageyama lowers him back to the ground, loosening all the bindings before slipping them off him. The marks of the rope remain still on Hinata's skin, and Kageyama brushes his fingers against the ones on his chest for the briefest second, though Hinata doesn't seem to notice, or is too overstimulated to respond. He's still coming back to himself, and Kageyama tells him he'll get him a towel, quickly leaving the room.

 _Hinata is just a model,_ he thinks, _he's just filling in for someone else._

But no one else has ever responded like that. No one has ever trusted Kageyama so wholly, so soon.

He comes back into the room, to find Hinata already sitting up. When he sees Kageyama, he tries to cover himself before giving up, accepting the towel with embarrassed gratitude.

"Hinata," Kageyama says, and the redhead looks up at him, mouth already forming another apology. "Can you come back next week?"

Hinata gapes at him, before he suddenly smiles, eyes lighting up.

"Name a time," he says, "and I'm here."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Kinktober challenge, day 24: Exhibitionism.

Hinata returns to Kageyama's studio again, and again, and again. Each time he arrives excited, smiling, bright—and every session he lets himself become something malleable, clay for Kageyama to shape how he pleases.

But Hinata isn't a blank slate. He's a college kid, and the only pose work he's ever done has been figure modeling in front of art classes. Sometimes, he's too colorful, but Kageyama just adds complements; other times, his lines are too strong, but Kageyama follows the patterns of his body. He's compelling, and Kageyama wants to make it so nobody ever takes their eyes off him.

Each week, by the end of the two hours without fail, Hinata begs for release, but not from the ropes. And Kageyama always gives him permission, bringing him to shaking, gratified orgasm, always with his name on Hinata's lips.

He's never touched Hinata once, aside from the barest brushes of fingers against his skin when he secures the rope. Yet at the end of every session, he can see the lust pooling in Hinata's gaze, hot, heavy, unguarded. Hinata doesn't even try to hide it. Kageyama knows his own desire is reflected right back. Neither of them says a word.

After they've known each other two months, Hinata becomes bolder.

"Kageyama," he says, as he removes his clothes. He's no longer shy about it.

Now he stands in front of Kageyama as he strips off one piece at a time, and Kageyama sits cross-legged looking up at him, deciding where the ropes will go that day, what pattern. Hinata is usually hard, now, before they even begin.

"What?" Kageyama asks, head tilted slightly to the side as Hinata pushes his underwear down over his hips and his cock bobs free.

"You should undress, too," Hinata tells him.

Kageyama leans back to look up at him. "Why is that?"

"I want to feel closer to you," Hinata says, without hesitation.

Kageyama stands. His superior height makes it feel like he's towering over Hinata sometimes, especially when Hinata is naked and bound and at his mercy. It feels that way now, because Hinata wants something more, something only Kageyama can give to him.

Kageyama pulls his shirt off his head, but before he can discard it off to the side, Hinata holds his hand out. Curious, Kageyama drops the shirt into his palm instead.

Hinata takes it from him, lets the material sift through his fingers. Then he raises it, presses it against his nose and mouth, and breathes, eyelids fluttering. Kageyama watches him and feels his heart respond in kind.

He has had many lovers, but he's never been in love. He's waltzed in and out of lives the same way people have danced in and out of his.

But he's never felt like this before. He doesn't think he's ever been wanted like this. Not because he's handsome, or because he's talented, or because he's made a name for himself. Hinata wants him because they understand each other. Kageyama thinks he may want Hinata for the same reasons.

Hinata waits for Kageyama to undress the rest of the way, still with his small hands gripping the shirt, eyes lingering, trailing low. Beyond this, he doesn't show any other response, not even when Kageyama has stripped completely, revealing he is undeniably hard as well. Only when they're both finally naked does Hinata hand back his shirt, and the surrealism of the moment flows on, even as it goes unacknowledged.

"Hinata," Kageyama murmurs, "may I bind you?"

He's never once not asked Hinata for permission, and the answer has always been "Yes!" or "Of course!" Enthusiastic, always.

Today, Hinata says, "Please."

Kageyama focuses on the knots on the front of his figure, the two of them nearly chest to chest as he ties, but for the times when he kneels in front of Hinata to bind his legs, his face so close to Hinata's erection he can see each tiny pearl of precum produced from the slit. Interestingly, each new droplet is accompanied by a gasp, stuttering from Hinata's chest, as though he is holding back a much greater tide, just barely.

Kageyama keeps him in this state for three whole hours, and when Hinata finally begs him, he's crying. When Kageyama tells him to come, his orgasm lasts longer, pulses harder, than Kageyama has ever seen it. He is certain his will be the same, when he is alone later in bed, imagining Hinata, and the way he looks, and his voice.

And that is why they continue on the way they do, the agony of never touching, the sensation of near heat, the faint scent of each other's skin the closest they have gotten.

The torment will make the release so much sweeter.

Afterward, Kageyama asks Hinata to be in an art exhibition the next month. It's entirely too sudden, and Kageyama has never considered entering a piece on such short notice. But the inspiration is there, sitting right in front of him.

Hinata drinks long from his water bottle, before wiping his mouth with a still unsteady hand.

"There would be… other people?" he asks, cheeks the rosy shade Kageyama loves. "Watching you do this? With me?"

"Yes," Kageyama says.

Hinata bites his lip, which he's always doing. It has been driving Kageyama slowly insane.

"Alright," Hinata says, with a smile.

*

The gallery is high end, packed with people, with still more outside hoping to get in the door. The focus for that night is performance pieces, with an emphasis on the eroticism of the human form.

Hinata is the diamond in the rough. Kageyama is the one to polish it. His name is well known in these circles, and people filter by to see him, curious at the different model, an unknown, but with an impressive range of motion and flexibility.

They walk by and then they don't walk away. A crowd gathers, grows, mindful of the way Kageyama works, sculpts, quiet but for the occasional murmur. Silent, so the noise that touches the space the loudest is also the most precious, the subject of the piece.

Kageyama binds Hinata in different patterns, with breaks to rest in between each scene. The first rope he uses is ink black, and the threads stand in stark contrast to Hinata's skin, as Kageyama secures him in the most complex positions, and the least comfortable, all meant to invoke the styles used on criminals, now under the control of their captors. He doesn't suspend Hinata for this first set, keeps him bound on the floor, like so much dirt.

It's erotic torture, plain on Hinata's face, his brow furrowed as he endures, gasps sharp and pitched. But he knows to check in with Kageyama. They don't need to exchange words—every so often, Hinata will open his eyes to look at him, follow Kageyama's hands and movements and steps with his gaze. He never looks at the audience, only at Kageyama, steady, trusting and heated, like he's egging Kageyama on— _break me._

The second rope used is snow white. In this set, Kageyama uses partial suspensions, binds Hinata's hands above his head, trusses him up so he rises with his arms behind his back and one leg in the air, bent at the knee, like a little dove. Kageyama hangs him from just his lower body, head lowered toward the floor, and Hinata moans at the headrush. Each position is at once composed and open, the white ropes on his pale skin like the soft reassurance of a loved one, a fascination with half-formed perfection. The promise of soon to be filled wishes.  

Hinata's eyes slip closed more often than they remain open, and once, Kageyama catches a whisper of his name. He is being broken.

The last rope he uses is the one Hinata knows—blood red. For this set, Kageyama suspends him fully. The pattern is one Hinata knows, too, because it is the very first Kageyama ever tied him with. He places the knots, threads the ropes between Hinata's trembling thighs, and he touches Hinata's skin maybe the slightest bit more than he has before, light brushes of his fingers here, there.

The red stands for passion, for yearning; the ropes binding Hinata over his entire body are Kageyama's need to possess him, in every way. At the last moment, he puts Hinata in the position in reverse, facing the floor—his subject is fully aroused, hard, his cock must be aching—but Kageyama doesn't want to share that with the audience, not this. Everything else, but not this.

When he has tied the last knot, bound Hinata fully, he steps away. But not before bending, to whisper in Hinata's ear, a quiet, "Thank you."

The audience claps as Kageyama bows, signaling the end of the performance.

 _"Kageyama._ "

Kageyama hears it, above the applause. A hoarse, wrecked plea.

"Kageyama, let me _come._ "

It's like blood rushing in his veins, loud in his ears. Kageyama turns back to Hinata, who hangs, head bowed, broken. Kageyama hadn't finished the way they usually did, because they aren't alone. They've never discussed what they do, what he makes Hinata do, when they're in private, and they hadn't discussed it in the context of the show. Kageyama assumed Hinata wouldn't want to lose himself like that in front of so many people.

But Hinata calls his name again, and Kageyama knows that this isn't for the audience—this is for Kageyama, in the same way that Kageyama chooses to bind Hinata to show him what he's thinking, feeling, _wanting._

He walks back to Hinata and stands in front of him this time, his back to the audience. He bows his head, so he can speak in his model's ear.

"Hinata," he murmurs, and Hinata gasps.

"Make me—" he groans. "Kageyama, I want to, it hurts—"

"The next time we're alone, I'm going to touch you," Kageyama tells him, voice low, so only Hinata can hear. "I'm going to put my lips on you, my teeth, my tongue. My fingers inside you."

Hinata lets out a sound unlike anything Kageyama's ever heard him make, raw and shattered. Kageyama puts his fingers under Hinata's chin, tilts his head so they can see each other's eyes, when he says,

"Hinata— _come_."

Kageyama doesn't let him drop his head, not even as he hears the hard splatter of his cum on the polished tiled floor below. Hinata's pupils are huge, dilated, the brown of his eyes just a light, thin ring as he unravels, the bindings shaking with the force of his trembling. When he's done, he just stares at Kageyama, chin caught in his grasp, mouth open as he pants. Kageyama's fingers are wet with his saliva.

Kageyama turns his head slightly to say over his shoulder. "This exhibition is closed—thank you for coming." He doesn't look to see that people leave. He knows they will at the finality in his voice.

He takes Hinata down gently, gently—helps him drink water, because Hinata is shaking too much to hold the bottle at first. Kageyama fights the urge to stroke a hand through his hair. Not yet. Not quite yet.

But very, very soon.

"Kageyama," Hinata says. "Did you mean that?"

Kageyama nods. "Couldn't you tell?"

Hinata smiles around the mouth of the water bottle. "Yeah… I can always tell what you mean."

"Hinata…"

"Can we go be alone?" Hinata asks him, without preamble. "Can we go back to the studio? Now?" He bites his bottom lip, and Kageyama doesn't even have to make up his mind. It's been decided for weeks, anyway.

He wants to trace the marks he's left, all over this inspiration.

*

Each time Hinata has come to Kageyama's studio, he's been unfailingly polite. It used to surprise Kageyama a little—that someone so excitable and undeniably loud, always brimming with energy, would always bow upon entering, neatly take off his shoes and set them aside, wait for Kageyama to welcome him in, before finally bouncing along after him, asking ten questions a minute about what they'd be doing that day.

He realizes, in time, that it's because they've both fallen so deeply into the dynamic that descends over the apartment, when they are together. Once inside, they've already begun, and it is Kageyama's responsibility to lead, to sculpt; Hinata's duty to let himself be molded to perfection.

This time is no different.

"Pardon the intrusion," Hinata says, softer than usual when Kageyama lets them inside. He's barely gotten his shoes off before Kageyama surprises them both.

He turns and pushes Hinata up against the door, hears the soft, surprised gasp that manages to escape Hinata before Kageyama leans all the way in and bites the bottom lip Hinata is perpetually worrying for himself, for once.

Hinata is warm, pressed fully up against him. He trembles, but otherwise doesn't move, when Kageyama drags the soft, plump flesh of his lip through his teeth, agonizingly slow. He is going to be so easy to ruin, Kageyama can tell. He always has been, in his own way, despite how long he always wants to, needs to be kept on edge. The whole time, he's waiting for Kageyama to push him off.

He releases Hinata's lip only to devour him again, this time kissing him fully, and Hinata falls open under him just as he does when Kageyama needs him to relax in the ropes. He sighs slow into Kageyama's mouth, and small hands come up to grip the back of Kageyama's shirt. He's not entirely submissive—Kageyama finds his kiss met with a force both surprising and desperate.

He decides the clothing barrier between them is stupid and unnecessary, and that a change in location is required.

Hinata knows what he's after without him having to say a word. He's already holding Kageyama, rising easily up onto the balls of his feet for Kageyama to lift into the air with the kind of grace that makes Kageyama think, once again, that he must dance. He wants to ask Hinata about that, eventually, but right now isn't the time or place. Right now, he carries Hinata to his bedroom, and once they have reached, he strips Hinata down to his skin.

Hinata's body still bares all the marks of the exhibition, though they are almost faded now. Slight, grooved indents remain, and now, now Kageyama can have his fill of touching them.

He turns Hinata around, pins him with his chest to the wall nearest his bed, and pulls Hinata's arms behind his back as he drops to his knees.

Whenever they work together, Hinata becomes quiet under the trance the ropes and Kageyama's hands put him in. He doesn't make a sound save for his even, slow breathing while he's tied. And when he comes, he falls utterly silent, as his body says everything for him—shuddering out what he means to tell Kageyama until he finally collapses, efforts spent.

Now he moans out loud as Kageyama slides his tongue over the markings on his legs, a wet line painted from the back of one of Hinata's knees and up his inner thigh where the ropes had crossed over to the front. The sound of Hinata's arousal makes a great heat flare so hot and vivid in Kageyama's belly that he outright growls, biting at the swell of Hinata's ass, drawing a gasp, high-pitched and needy. Despite already being made to come once this evening, he will break quickly, now that Kageyama has him at his mercy.

It feels right, having Hinata trapped between him and the wall, especially after Kageyama has pulled off his own clothes, fitted the whole length of his body against Hinata's back. He feels so good, when Kageyama pushes his fingers into him, opens him up just a little slower than Hinata wants. He can tell by the way Hinata keens and pushes back into him, rutting his hips and his hole against Kageyama's hand, trying to get him deeper. Kageyama doesn't want to lose this feeling, of always having Hinata right where he wants him, bound and secured by him.

When he has Hinata worked open enough, his entrance relaxed and wet, and Kageyama has rolled a condom on, slicked his aching, hardened cock with a few sloppy pumps of his hand, he turns Hinata around and lifts him once more. But Hinata understands Kageyama all too well, knows what he might want better than Kageyama does himself.

He's so flexible it shouldn't be allowed, Kageyama thinks, as Hinata slides one leg, then the other, over Kageyama's shoulders. His flushed thighs press right against Kageyama's chest as Kageyama leans against him, careful not to overstretch him. He has his hands propped under Hinata's ass to support him, Hinata's arms around his neck so Hinata can cling to him. 

He splays his fingers across Hinata's cheeks to spread him open wide and slowly pushes his cock into Hinata's welcoming heat.

Hinata's fingers are insistent; maybe even more than Kageyama had hoped they'd be, when he is finally given permission, allowed to touch, set free from the bindings. He pushes them into Kageyama's hair as he moans, rolling his hips down over Kageyama's cock like even that isn't enough. Kageyama refuses not to be enough. He growls, grips Hinata's ass firmly, and drives up into him, wrenching a cry from his lungs.

He's so tight around Kageyama's dick, his voice is broken and sobbing the way it gets right at the end of their sessions, when he's been pushed past his limits but he still holds himself in check. When he's waiting, often begging, for Kageyama to let him come.

But Kageyama is done binding him for tonight, done with that brand of torture, even if Hinata loves every agonizing second of it. Because Kageyama has been waiting, too—waiting to feel all of Hinata, to take all of him. He's known for months Hinata wanted him, and he denied them both, just for this moment.

He kisses and licks a path over Hinata's jaw to just below his ear, and can't stop himself from grinning against Hinata's flushed warm skin. It was worth the wait.

"You can come anytime you want," he murmurs into Hinata's ear, and Hinata groans.

"With you," he says. "Tell me…"

Of course. Kageyama lets his forehead rest against Hinata's as he rocks his hips, feels Hinata squeezing tight around him, and then kisses him again, slow and long. His words are messy when he murmurs them, a low, "Now… _now…_ " against Hinata's mouth.

He can feel Hinata clenching around him as he comes, and it knocks the wind from him. He leans a bit more heavily against Hinata and the wall than he means to on now shaky legs, but Hinata doesn't seem to notice. His fingers tremble in Kageyama's hair as he whimpers into his mouth, cock leaking cum in sluggish drips over his stomach. His eyes are heavy and glassed over when Kageyama pulls back slightly, breaking the thin trail of spit between their lips. He looks just as blissed out as he does after he comes in Kageyama's bindings.

It's a beautiful look on him, Kageyama thinks.

Kageyama doesn't set Hinata down right away, because Hinata is always unsteady post-orgasm. He pulls out, and both of them hiss at the feeling. Kageyama's legs are still a bit wobbly as he makes his way to the bed, setting Hinata down and then sitting heavily on it himself to remove and toss the condom. Hinata flops onto his back and sighs.

"You still alive?" Kageyama asks him.

"Nope," Hinata says. "Looks like you'll have to find yourself a _new_ new model." Kageyama raises an eyebrow and Hinata starts laughing. "You look so mad, Kageyama."

"I'm not finding another model, dumbass," Kageyama tells him. "You're already—" He cuts himself off. He'd been about to say perfect.

"I'm already what?" Hinata asks, head tilted curiously. Lying on the bed, hair fanning out around his head, little naked body writhing in the sheets as he stretches out some of his lingering aches—Kageyama is struck again by how beautiful he looks. He _is_ perfect. But there's no way Kageyama is going to tell him that and let it get to his head.

"You're convenient," Kageyama says instead.

Hinata sticks his tongue out. "Well, then, if you don't want me to die, you better feed me soon. I'm hungry."

Kageyama scowls. "Not my problem."

"The show was so long, Kageyama!" Hinata protests. "And I could hear everyone saying I was a really good model. You should reward me."

"You already got your reward," Kageyama says, pointing down at his now flaccid cock, and Hinata squawks in outrage.

They end up getting pizza anyway. Kageyama almost asks Hinata to stay over; but Hinata has class, and Kageyama is still not quite sure where they go from here. Now that they've fucked, he'd normally show Hinata the door and that would be that. But the thing is, even though the suspense is finally over and done with, it never really felt like this was the only thing they were building towards.

Kageyama has learned over the years that some works of art have endings, clear cut and simple. But others take hold of the artist's life, continuing on in ways they never could have anticipated.

Hinata has certainly turned out to be the latter; and Kageyama has never been one to turn away a muse.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to check out more sexy themed KageHina, I'm putting all my Kinktober stories into **[this collection](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/kagehinakinktober2016)**! 
> 
> [I'm [@esselley](http://esselley.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr, [@Esselle_hq](https://twitter.com/Esselle_hq) on Twitter]

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Modern Art Series by Esselle [Podfic]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14373375) by [Rhea314 (Rhea)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Rhea314)




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